The Crow: Cabaret Nights
by KatherineSloan
Summary: This time, the Crow brings back a woman, who died trying (but failing) to protect her daughter. This time, a young man finds her, and helps her understand why she’s back. Please R&R! Third chapter up!
1. Intro

Title: The Crow: Cabaret Nights

Rating: PG-13 for now, but I may have to up it to R in later chapters...

Summary: This time, the Crow brings back a woman, who died trying (but failing) to protect her daughter. This time, a young /man/ finds her, and helps her understand why she's back. Please R&R!

OOOOOOOO

_He was dressed all in black. The little boy's eyes were wide, though with more curiosity than fear. The man bent near and pulled a quarter from behind the boy's ear, and then pinched it. It glowed red for a moment, before seeming to melt away into nothing. _

"_How did you do that?" the child asked, almost smiling in awe. The man shook his head with his own small smile._

"_Magic." He turned his head and studied the boy for a moment. "You have it too, just as strong as I do." The boy's eyes widened, becoming white saucers in his dirty face._

"_I do?" The man nodded, and then stood up and turned around, all in one fluid motion. He looked back over his shoulder for a minute, and then moved away, vanishing around the corner with no farewell but for the wave of his coat._

OOOOOOOO

"I believe that when a person dies, they find their way to a better place. I don't think it's easy, and I think many get lost. They become our ghosts, and it's for this reason so many people fear death. But sometimes, a Crow helps them, leading them home. And sometimes...it leads them back."

OOOOOOOO

Author's Notes:

I'm writing this as a favor for a friend, and I've got a lot of papers due soon so I may not update way often, but I'll try! I hope you like it, but review even if you don't, eh? I'm not fragile. Oh, and I've only seen two Crow movies...so...if I miss something...important...let me know rather than roasting me for it, hm? Thanks! Oh, and yeah this is short, but that's 'cause it's an intro! I hope to have Chapter 1 up soon!


	2. Chapter 1

Top of Form

**She's dancing, moving slowly, but gradually picking up speed. She's young, 20s maybe, and beautiful, all moving curves, fluid grace.**

**A young girl, maybe four, standing at the door, playing, singing softly.**

**A man, a little older than the dancer, whispering to the girl, grabbing her.**

**She's dancing faster now, eyes closed, hands above her head, lost in the motion.**

**The girl screams.**

**The woman slaps him, furious.**

**He has a knife. The woman is screaming, holding her child. Her screams stop.**

OOOOOO

His eyes flash open, blue-gray dimmed to nearly black, his chest heaving, drenched in sweat. The young man groans and rolls over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow up over his head, but sits up a moment later. He stands, pulling on a black sweatshirt but staying in his boxers, these gray. At the table, he taps a finger on the paper there, and then turns away. It's a song, fragmented and half-formed.

Dance now

Don't pay heed

Daddy's friends

Oh, watch for her

"Ugh, it's crap." He moves back to his bed, running a hand through the black hair. The bed creaks ominously as he drops onto it again, exhausted, trying to find sleep.

OOOOOO

"Hey kid, we got a customer!" The young man rolls his eyes, brushing his hair back again. He nods at the old man, and hurries up to the counter.

"How can I help you?" The customer's a woman with a little boy on each hand, and her eyes widen slightly as he flashes her a smile.

"Um..." He absently fingers one of his belts, part of his black leather jacket, sighing. "We'll have two bubble gum flavors, and one mint chocolate chip. Make that a double scoop." He nods and bends to scoop the ice cream, not bothering to try out another smile that's doomed to fail. The boys begin chattering at their mother, begging for a double scoop, and wanting to know if they could get a movie. The boy on the right shoots a look at the young man as he hands the mother two bubble gum ice creams. A moment later, as he hands her the double scoop, the little boy pipes up.

"Mommy...? He's scary!" The young man's eyebrows shoot up, and he glances down at himself. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, white t-shirt, boots, belts, fishnet sleeves...what's not to love? The mother blushes red as he looks back up.

"I'm sorry. Come on, Timothy, say you're sorry." The boy's shoulders sag.

"Sorry..." he mutters.

"It's all right. Here..." The young man reaches out and drops a small handful of sprinkles on the boy's cone, and then on his brother's, just as the second boy's mouth opens. Both boys grin at him, and the mother look torn between relief and shock. She shoots him a nervous, stressed smile, and hurries out with the boys in tow.

OOOOOO

"Jason." The young man turns back at the sidewalk's edge, waiting. The old man is watching him from the doorway.

"Why do you work here, son?" His faded blue eyes take in the young man's clothes, though he's almost smiling. Jason smiles slightly.

"Same reason I did yesterday, Mr. Kent." The hold man shakes his head and then flaps a hand at him.

"You'd better get home then. It's late," he says, completing their nightly routine. Jason smiles and climbs onto his motorcycle and roars off.

Three blocks down he slams to a halt at a stop sign, staring up it. Perched atop it is a crow, charcoal black but sleek as shoe polish. Jason smiles slightly, though it doesn't seem to reach his eyes, which are curious.

"You're here." The crow cocks its head at him and caws loudly, and then takes flight, heading left down the cross street. With a roar of his engine, the young man takes off after it, somehow almost knowing where to go.

He reaches an alleyway about ten minutes later and pulls in, stopping about ten feet from a dumpster. The crow is perched on top, and it caws as he turns off the bike's engine. For a moment he just stares at the dumpster, thinking about his dream. This alley looks familiar. He swings himself down off of his bike, setting the kickstand, and takes a step closer.

Both lids to the dumpster slam open, sending the crow up in a flurry of black feathers, cawing loudly. Out of the garbage, still covered in various pieces of trash, mostly paper, a woman rises. She's completely suspended, arms stretched out wide, head bowed forward.

The moment passes, and she falls, sliding back into the garbage. Jason stares, recognizing her from his dream, and somehow not surprised at all. A moment later he starts as a hand grabs the edge of the dumpster. A second hand joins it, and the woman lifts herself up out of the trash, leaning forward over the edge. She falls, flipping over and landing on her back on the cold cement surrounded by debris. When she doesn't move, the young man bends down beside her, and carefully picks her up.


	3. Chapter 2

I know, it's been /forever/ since I've updated. I'm sorry! But here's more! I know it's short, but I really wanted to get something up before you all gave up on me! Oh, one more thing. In the song, the lines in parenthesis are supposed to be crossed out, but I can't figure out how to do that.

The young woman wakes while Jason is trying out a few chords on his guitar. The song he's writing is in front of him. He hears her shift, and quickly puts his guitar down, going over to drop beside her. She sits up slowly, and then sweeps her hair back out of her face with a distracted gesture. She looks up at him, studying his face. Her voice, when she speaks, is flat and almost emotionless.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" The young man nods. "So is Rebecca." Her daughter. Again, he nods.

"Yes." A loud cawing makes him look up as the crow lands on her shoulder. She pets it absently, stroking the glossy black feathers. It takes a lock of her midnight hair in its beak for a moment. "It was the crow, wasn't it?" It's really more statement than question. The woman smiles, and there's a flurry of movement as the crow takes off. She looks past him suddenly, to the guitar and his song.

"Can I see it?" He blinks, looking over his shoulder, momentarily thrown off, but then nods. She gets up, crossing the room slowly, and reads his writing slowly.

Dance now

(Don't pay heed) Pay them back

Too many things, so late

Pierced with talons

(…..crows…)

Without saying anything she takes up the pen, making a few changes. He walks over as she writes, reading over her shoulder.

"It's an improvement." She smiles.

The crow calls.

OOOOOOO

_She slips up the new pants, black leather sliding up long legs, slim hips. Belts cling from the jacket, silver buckles with no use beyond design. Black fishnets beneath a sleeveless shirt come down over her hands, looping around her middle fingers. A toss of jet black hair, a flip of a leather collar, and a good yank on tall black boots._

OOOOOOO

She borrows his motorcycle. All roads turn from Rome to lead her after the man. She ducks low over the bike, hair snapping around her face in the wind, until she slides to a stop, leaping from the bike. It's him.

He leers, grabbing a passing blonde and yanking her around into the alley nearby. She starts to scream, and then chokes on it as a hand grabs onto his shoulder, yanking him back, turning him around. He looks up into midnight eyes framed by darker hair, and gasps.

"You!" She just smiles, grabbing him by the head and slamming him back into the wall. The blonde shrieks and runs. "No – you can't be here! I –" Not bothering to listen, she moves her hands, placing both thumbs lightly against his eyelids. When he hesitates, she gives a low chuckle, and shoves – digging her thumbs straight into his eyes. Thick, red liquid oozes from the sockets around her thumbs and he /screams/. His voice cracks, the sound going too high as she twists her thumbs, and then yanks them back out. He chokes, screaming again. The sounds dies in his throat as she brings her knee up into his groin, all the air wheezing out of him like a deflated balloon. He doubles over and she grabs his head, hands moving in a lightning-fast gesture that snaps his neck.

Some minutes later as she leaves the alley, the blonde woman stands up from where she'd been sitting by the motorcycle.

"Thank you." The woman nods, going up to the bike and swinging onto it. "Please –" The blonde reaches out as if to grab her, but quickly jerks her hand back. "What's your name?" The dark-haired woman returns her gaze for a moment, and then looks down, starting the bike's engine.

"Alia," she says, voice quiet. With that she roars off. The blonde looks back towards the alley, and shudders, hurrying away.

Back above the man's body, blood drips from the wall, the spatter in the form of a crow…


End file.
